罗马之夜的那首Neapolitan民谣
“I can, from the distance of years now, still think I'm hearing the voices of two young men singing these words in Neapolitan toward daybreak, neither realizing, as they held each other and kissed again and again on the dark lanes of old Rome, that this was the last night they would ever make love again.”
[ Page 1 ]
I
Cry Palermo, cry Siracusa
in Carini every family is mourning.
Whoever brought this painful news
could never find peace in his heart.
My mind is so confused,
my heart is swollen, my pulse throbbing,
I would like a respectful, sweet song
to lament for the pillar of my home.
The brightest star smiling in the heavens
pure soul and without veil:
the best star amongst Seraphim,
oh poor Baroness of Carini
(When she appeared was like the moon,
reflecting the light all over the plains;
one from the sky the other at the balcony,
she was comfort to all her people,
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to all she brought good tidings,
and her people near and far,
their Lady loved with their soul.
Now split is the happy heart,
and Sicily is dying with pain.
Blood on the tower and on the altar
and we are left just with tears.)
(Beautiful eyes by worms eaten,
already buried under the earth,
by friends and relative since forgotten,
only you of all my love knew.
Oh sweet eyes that never leave me
that every night in my dreams appear,
for all the kisses I have given you
talk and tell about my love).
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Rivers, mountains and trees all cry.
Sun and moon never reappear:
the beautiful Baroness that you lost
was giving you the loving rays.
Oh little birds what do you want?
Uselessly you search for your joy.
little boats slowly coming
lift up your mourning sail!
The black ones, the sails of mourning,
because dead is the Goddess of loving.
Oh Love, oh Love cry your loss,
there is no more room for you in her heart,
those sweet eyes, those blessed lips...
Oh God, even the shadow of them is gone!
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But crying is the blood for revenge,
red on the wall and revenge awaits,
and the One is coming with laden foot,
He who alone governs the world
and He is coming with slow pace
the One who reaches you Cain's race.
No, with flowers I couldn't adorn you
nor I did anymore see your pretty face
I lose my mind... Oh if I weren't born!
I'm kneeling over your tomb stone
My dear soul put on your wings,
paint for me the darkest pain...
to write and describe my grief in kind,
I should possess Solomon's mind.
I wish like Solomon I could cope,
because to the bottom went my hope.
My little boat stays out and mourns,
without the pilot within the storm.
My little boat stays out of port
broken the sail and dead the pilot.
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II
Near about the Castle of Carini,
you could often see handsome knight;
the young aristocratic Vernagallo,
who gets honor from all his peers;
he never stops like a working bee,
around the flowers the honey to sip:
rom dawn to dusk all day in love
is watching steady the windows above.
Now he appears on the plain below
flying on a mare with no wings.
Now you see him in t he church,
flashing his eyes full of ardor;
now you can hear him in the night,
serenading his love from the garden.
This fine lily of fragrance full
tucked far in among its leaves
most hardly shuns the labors of love
and to all the attentions answers not.
She burns within with powerful fire,
and is all amazed and confounded too...
and she her senses always loses,
because in her mind him often sees:
and always her mind is with fever
and says: How can you stand it Caterina?
And her mind has lost every power
that love always everybody conquers.
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This flower was born with all the flowers,
little by little in March it blossomed,
April and May the scent of it enjoyed,
it went on fire with the sun of June.
Steady by the hour this fire burns,
burns by the hour and does not consume
this fire to two hearts life gives,
united by a chain now they live.
Oh sweet life, nothing is better,
like being on the top of the world!
The sun in the sky stands still,
its rays to the two lovers give a halo.
The two hearts are tied by one strand,
and on one strand play the same note
and the happiness that portrays them
makes everything golden and rosy.
But gold is a reason for envy,
and the rose is pretty but one moment;
gold is only a wave's foam,
the rose withers and the petals fall.
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III
The Baron from hunting just back
"I feel tired, I shall go to bed..."
But at the door suddenly knocks
a little monk wanting to talk.
they have a conference all night long
he tells him a lot before he says "so-long".
Jesus and Mary, what a dark sky,
this sure is the sign of the storm.
The monk goes away laughing,
while the Baron upstairs is raving.
With clouds the moon herself hid,
the owl went cu-cu and then fled.
Grabs the Baron sword and elm,
"Fly, my horse, out of Palerm.
And you my faithful even at night,
come and follow me to my plight".
Fleshly rosy was coming up dawn,
over the fins of Ustica at sea,
the swallow goes up singing,
flying high to the sun greeting;
but the falcon cuts short its way,
over it its claws wants to lay!
Fearful in the depths of its nest hides,
and just barely its life it saves...
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and doesn't care to come out anymore,
doesn't even think to sing encore.
Same terror, same torment and fear,
had the Baroness of Carini.
With her company she was at the balcony
completely happy with love and pleasure:
with dreamy eyes and love on her mind,
of her wishes extreme, eternal aim...
"A cavalry coming from afar I see,
this is my father who comes for me!
From afar I see coming a cavalry,
this is my father who comes to kill me!"
From afar I see coming a cavalry,
this is my father who comes to kill me!"
Sir, my father, concede me, I pray
to call my confessor just a moment.
For many years you pleasure and play,
and now time you need to repent?
There is no time for sure, I say
not even for receiving the Sacrament.
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And as he utters these bitter words
her heart he splits with his sword.
Haste, companion, don't you even miss,
the next thrust is your to strike.
With the first blow the lady stayed,
at the second hit she fell and died.
the first blow caught her in the back,
the second split her heart and neck!
What a distress for the unhappy soul
when nobody came to her help:
She was down-stricken and looking for friends,
from room to room, running for life;
yelled hard: Help Carinisi!
Help, help he is slaughtering me.
Outraged screamed:- Heartless Carinisi
The last sound she could give.
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The last sound with her last breath,
that already pierced is her heart;
the last sound and the last dolor,
that she lost her blood and her color.
Now you all come people of Carini,
now that is dead your friendly Lady:
dead is the lily that blossomed in Carini,
a traitor monk is all to blame,
brothers and priests, you all come
take her together to the tomb:
all you come, most good people,
with a procession take her to bury...
You all come with a clean cloth
and wipe dry the beautiful face;
all you come with a cloth clean,
and dry wipe off the purple face.
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IV
The news fast reached the Palace,
fainted grandmother and down she fell;
her sisters pulled their hair,
mother got blinded for the pain.
(Oh, poor lady, who gave her the news?
who in her heart thrust the knife?
Within a night a daughter she lost,
within a night she paid the cost.
Right in the pots all flowers died,
solitary were left all the windows.
The rooster didn't sing now anymore,
scared at the sight and even sore.
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By two, by three the people group:
they are rumoring with scared hearts.
In the city can be heard a great hum,
mixed with weeps and laments:
"Oh what a death! What a painful death!
Away from the mother, away from her love
"killed like an animal in a moment,
without the forgiveness of the Saints...!"
"In the dark, at night she was buried:
even the grave-digger was scared!"
"Poor love! My heart is in a plight:
unjustly dead, buried at night!"
V
In all Sicily fast a murmur flies,
speedy goes the news throughout the reign:
but it doesn't go to Don Asturi:
who could trust the news in his heart?
He who by the Baron is hunted,
at Lattarini finds repair...
At night he comes to watch the window,
there is silence, a new tenant dark!
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The dark silence here came to stay,
and my heart throbs in dismay:
silence and darkness came to be,
and like the sea my heart throbs in me.
Closed are the windows! Woe to me!
Where my Goddess used to appear,
she appears up there no more,
maybe she is ill, maybe she is sore.
The mother appears and:-You I curse!
Your love was taken without the hearse!
I go errant as does the moon,
looking all over for my dearest lady,
on the way I met the dark Death,
who saw and spoke with no eyes nor mouth.
She said:-Where're you handsome going?
-I look for who loved me so much,
of my lover I want a glimpse catch.-
-Look no more, she is interred!
And if you don't believe me fair figure,
go to the Cathedral at our Lady's altar,
of the tomb pull up the stone,
there you will find her eaten by worms:
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eaten by the rat the beautiful throat,
where splendid flashed the golden pendant;
the rat made a nest in her regal hair,
where she used to hang flowers and pearls.
The rat ate those little fine hands,
and the pretty black eyes, similar to none!
Oh tell me were are the church attendants,
so they can open the doors for me.
Oh God! Hurry, run with the key,
or my hands alone will break them down!
Ask, tell the Bishop here to come,
I want to tell him of all my lot:
I want my Goddess alive be made,
she doesn't deserve to be with the dead.
Oh sacristan, I pray, a quarter-hour
so I can lower for her a light.
Good sacristan of her take care,
don't leave her 'lone in the dark:
she was afraid to sleep alone,
now she has the dead as companion!
Make for her a marble stone,
and four little angels by the same tone,
all four above her holding a Rosary,
eyes at the sky and while praying cry.
And in golden letters I want you to write
the desperate story of this death
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As the straw carried by the wind
is being tossed from ridge to slope:
My dear Master change your route,
of the hunter's dogs I see the mouths.
On ridges and canyon is my way
my heart is torn, my legs are worn...
My dear Master the sky has changed,
the white clouds are now blackened.
My heart too lost its color
and was abandoned by its valor.
The ugly fate that pushes me away
closed the trail to what it may.
It killed the green of my hope,
and love still burns and never stops...
Devil I pray to you, be kind,
a favor I ask of you with all my mind:
let me speak to my love encore,
then in hell I'll stay forevermore.
Satan in passing heard my say:
Ride me, your orders I obey.
We disappeared through a dark way
the when and where I just can't say.
(I couldn't say if it was dream or truth,
that devil and man left this route;
and the man, numb, felt to be taken
much deeper than earth and sea.
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I went to hell, oh , I shouldn't have gone!
Such was the crowd, I couldn't squeeze in.
At first sight the monk I found,
reading he was, the Book in his hand.
Seated he was in a scolding pot,
slowly roasting his delicate flesh!
When he saw me he offered his hand,
and waxy smiles was throwing at me.
I replied:-There is enough time
for you to receive your alms.
The world is a wheel and in time will see
come up the bottom dry of the sea.
Next and 'round the fire is burning,
and in the midst my love is suffering.
And while the flames the wind blasts
continuously swirls and forever lasts.
She turned and said:-Oh cruel heart,
you are the cause for all this pain;
oh, if the door I shut on you there,
when I told you: "Love, come here!"
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I answered:- If I didn't love you so,
the world wouldn't be dead to me!
My chest open and on my heart will see
the beautiful name of my Katherine.-
Many are the troubles, short is the time:
turn to Christ, wait no more.
The dream of sleep that all revealed,
what would happen already spelled.
the fair Vernagallo is pain consumed,
in the church corner I saw him subdued.
In a monk's habit I saw him spent,
it tears you apart to hear his lament.
You can hear, if you want, his wailing,
afflicted heart , he has no more hoping.
His wailing, if you want, you can hear,
distressed heart... who can it bear?
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I want to go in the barren desert,
grass for food as the animals,
the sharpest thorns use for bed,
a rock on the ground for bolster use.
I take a stone and beat my breast,
till the pain brings tears at last.
And my eyes become like two springs,
and the Father of all comfort brings.
And like two rivulets my eyes become,
and Heaven's forgiveness and help come.
VI
Heaven reaches us with rewards and woes,
always grieves us and consoles.
A blind shadow nor alive nor dead,
the afflicted mother I still recognize:
as time goes she always sighs,
no more she sobs, a word does not say;
near her weeps and cry
Donna Maria and Donna Leonora;
Oh sister, for you no mass was said,
nor the benediction for the dead!
For you nobody came not a kin
nor the hearse-cloth on the coffin!
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I want to go in the barren desert,
grass for food as the animals,
the sharpest thorns use for bed,
a rock on the ground for bolster use.
I take a stone and beat my breast,
till the pain brings tears at last.
And my eyes become like two springs,
and the Father of all comfort brings.
And like two rivulets my eyes become,
and Heaven's forgiveness and help come.
VI
Heaven reaches us with rewards and woes,
always grieves us and consoles.
A blind shadow nor alive nor dead,
the afflicted mother I still recognize:
as time goes she always sighs,
no more she sobs, a word does not say;
near her weeps and cry
Donna Maria and Donna Leonora;
Oh sister, for you no mass was said,
nor the benediction for the dead!
For you nobody came not a kin
nor the hearse-cloth on the coffin!
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Oh Castle, your name you have lost,
as I see you I'm filled with dread;
of the most wanted list you are at the top
you are full of ghosts and walled up.
Cry your walls and take a vow,
and the heartless Turk cries and curses...
The heartless Turk doesn't sleep an hour,
and earth he curses and Heaven too.
"Oh heavens open up! Oh earth bury me down
Thunderbolts burn and bury me down!
From my breast root out this heart,
in my bed knife me down to death."
With suspicion in his bulged out eyes,
wandering, lost through the dark streets,
he feels the night with her chilly wings
that says:-Drowned is your last hope!
The damned spirits feel around you
dancing and laughing with shrieking voice:
turns all around and peace doesn't find,
that his bed is nails and thorns;
and while he turns haunts him a lament
that whispers and says:-Torment, torment!
Weariness in the end sets in,
the need for sleep is strong within.
But his fantasy is very much awake,
and shows him ghosts and phantoms alike;
like the cloud enters the fog
and runs and flies and never stops.
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The happy days come again,
and the dearest youth again returns;
come and go the burning frenzy
of loves and splendors and powerful state;
a line of children comes for prize,
and 'round goes the wheel that plays.
"Castle, that give me the title,
I'm back to enjoy my great treasure:
my daughter, the envy of the moon,
who all say she out did the sun."
and intensely he sifts each room,
but only an echo is answering his call,
echoes only are making a stand
as to say that all is at end!
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"My heart is clutched by a claw:
where is the daughter that I know?
A claw is clutching at my heart,
where's the daughter that is my part?
This still air my senses is drawing,
tell me, witch, the pain is growing,
show me where to find Katherine,
you I ask old giver of curses."
That pale witch that is not alive
surely points the trembling hand
to the first room closest by
shaking her harm in an evil way.
Fly, Baron, the daughter is found
in bed, under the quilt she's bound.
Baron, fly, your daughter will see,
under the quilt she is sound asleep.
He lifts the quilt and calls:-Katherine!
and silence is there all around.
He puts in his hand and finds it red,
he is all confused and scared too.
Fuming blood yelling for vengeance,
always burns and for vengeance cries;
it burns his arm down to the vein,
down to the black heart all the way!
This was the end to the sorrowful dream,
that was to the Baron a funeral grim
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VII
Rancor and Hate take our mind,
and close our eyes with a veil of blood.
Suspicion drags us down to precipice,
honor and virtue become a caprice.
The impious sacrilege of the Baron,
to his descendant will bring pain
Evil will be paid, think twice,
by who does evil when full of rage;
and no human respect shows in his face,
and the hand of God with a wave chases.
Come , hand of God, so heavily down,
hand of God, come, bring a new dawn.
(Oh you all cry people of Carini,
now that dead is your good lady.
Think of her but leave her alone,
don't say ill of her, but just remember;
leave her with the peace of the dead,
if you think of her and love her still.
Think of her and for her go and pray,
if others for you prayers should say;
give alms and good deed always do,
and one day all will be repaid to you.)
